


Lessons

by HawkSong



Series: Finding Home [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Implied Use Of Sex Toys, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex Education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28537053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: Alphinaud makes progress on his plans to research very important techniques for the conquest of his Warrior's heart
Relationships: Alphinaud Leveilleur/Original Character(s)
Series: Finding Home [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853455
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Alphinaud is 18 years old in this fic.  
> This fic takes place during "Salt in the Wounds," and is referred to there.  
> A content warning: the OC in this fic is a sex worker, a courtesan.

The sun had set in a particularly lovely display, and now twilight closed in softly. The streets of Kugane were lit by lamps, most of which looked very exotic to his eyes. He still found the city irresistibly strange; every aspect of the place stirred his curiosity.

But tonight, he would not wander. Tonight, he would be learning in a much different manner than he ever had before.

He picked at the hem of his sleeve as he lingered near the corner of the building. The Flower District was not one of the areas of the city he had spent much time in, but he was familiar enough to find his way around; not that it was difficult to find the House of the Honeysuckle. He had chosen this specific House for its discreetness as much as its quality. He certainly did not need Berylla to hear about this foray. Or, gods help him, his dratted sister.

The only person at the Ruby Bazaar who knew where he was, in fact, was Hancock. Then again, it had been the man's not-very-subtle suggestions that had led Alphinaud here in the first place. The least he could do was help Alphinaud maintain the utmost discretion.

His heart was already racing. He tried to calm himself. Of course it was natural that he'd be nervous, he told himself, but there was no reason to hesitate. The appointed time was nearly upon him. All he had to do was walk up, present himself at the door, and give the pseudonym he'd chosen.

He steeled himself, and strode towards the building. Fortunately for his nerves, no one else was on the street. He managed to keep his voice pleasant and calm, managed to speak without stuttering or blushing. The silent servant, swathed head to toe in dark blue silk, ushered him in with a low bow. The door made a shushing sound as it slid shut behind him.

The receiving room appeared exactly as it had before – muted lighting, cushions on the floor in soft earth colors, and no hint of anything immodest anywhere. A faint scent of sandalwood incense wafted through the air.

He was better acquainted with certain customs now, and didn't forget to remove his shoes directly after entering. The servant took the white boots from him even as Alphinaud set them down. Returning, he – or perhaps it was a woman – gestured simply, a wordless offer to take his coat. He shed that as well, and then stood, slightly uncertain, forcing his hands to stay at his sides. His fingers twitched despite his effort to be still.

Part of the wall to his left slid aside, and a woman stepped through. He turned toward her as she bowed deeply.

“Good evening, honored patron.”

She wore a black silk kimono, embroidered with pale flowers, held with a cream colored sash. She was no more than an inch or two taller than himself, and her demeanor was so serene that his own nerves calmed. A little.

She led him beyond the screen, into a quiet hall paneled in dark wood. Closed doors lined the hall, and Alphinaud did his best to close his ears to the hints of sound from behind those doors. He was not here to eavesdrop, after all.

At the end of the hall, a door on the left stood open. Light from within gleamed off the polished wooden floor. The woman turned to face him as they reached the door, and bowed him in.

He stepped through the door, and took a few steps into the room before pausing. He heard the door slide shut.

The room itself was as plain as the antechamber had been, with the exception that tatami had been laid over the wood floor here. But most of the floor space was taken up by an enormous cushion. He would have said, a mattress, but it bore no resemblance to any bed he had ever seen in Eorzea or in Doma. It looked more like a cloud given slightly more substance, honestly. The only other furnishings were a pair of _tansu_ , chests-of-drawers, one to each side of the room. Lamps stood on those dressers, and on one, an ewer and basin with cloths stacked beside it.

The door slid open, and shut again even as he turned.

The woman standing at the door wore a robe not unlike the first woman's robe in its cut. There the resemblance ended however: this kimono was a deep sapphire blue and was incredibly sheer. It did not reveal so much as obscure in the most tantalizing way imaginable.

Alphinaud's ears burned and he knew he was blushing. The courtesan smiled – a smile full of sensual promise, of enticement. His whole body reacted to it, with an intensity that startled him.

“Good evening.” Her voice was warm, pleasant, and just a bit amused. “I am called Mai. And you are...?”

Flustered, he didn't remember the fake name he'd used at the door. “Alphinaud.”

Her lips moved as she mouthed his name for a moment, as if tasting it, and then she smiled once more. “What would your pleasure be this evening, Alphinaud?”

“I am...ah...I wish to learn how best to,” he coughed a little. “To p-please a woman.”

Damn it, stuttering? He did not _stutter!_ And why could he not lower his eyes from hers? This was what he had paid for, was it not? Why was he suddenly so...

Mai tilted her head slightly, and then her smile softened, became sympathetic. She held out one hand to him. “Shall we begin with a massage, then? And perhaps some talk.”

He nodded, feeling absurd and awkward, and let her take him by the hand.

Without speaking, she guided him to kneel on the cushion, and removed his shirt. When his chest was bare, she gently guided him once more, to lay flat on his belly. Her hands were cool, and soft as flower petals, as she began to rub his back.

“Tell me,” her tone was soothing, “about the woman you wish to please. For surely there is one particular woman, no?”

“Yes...” Alphinaud chose his words with care. “She is...older than I. We have been close for a long time, fought beside each other.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “We are growing closer, now. She is far more experienced than I, and I – I want to be...prepared.” He sighed. “I have been trying to study, but techniques are not...” He blushed again. “Not generally well documented.”

He felt a tremble in her fingers and sighed again. “You may laugh. It is, on the face of it, quite ridiculous.”

“Not at all,” Mai replied, though her voice rippled with humor. “It is clear that you feel most strongly for this woman. You do not wish to be found lacking as a lover. Very understandable.”

“I tried to...romance a few girls my own age. As research, of course.” He frowned. “I couldn't bring myself to...to...follow through.”

The truth was, he had done little more than kiss them, and even that had been awkward and rather unsatisfying. That was _why_ he'd begun to seek out written wisdom, for the good it had done him.

Mai's fingers soothed their way across his shoulders. “Might I suggest beginning with your own body, then?” Her touch moved down his spine. “Learning your own reactions, and how to control them, is a very good first step in this endeavor.”

“I should think that I know my own body,” he commented.

“Oh?” She suddenly ran her nails down his sides, and he jumped at the sudden intensity of the sensation. He wasn't ticklish, but it was startling nonetheless. Then her fingers soothed the skin, and he felt goosebumps rising all over him, and a definite warmth in his belly.

He exhaled, shivering a little as he did. “I defer to your greater wisdom,” he managed.

She laughed, low in her throat. Then her hands left his back for a moment. He heard the sigh of silk, but she was just beyond the edge of his peripheral vision.

When she leaned over him again, her hands once more rubbing gentle circles on either side of his spine, he also felt the silk of her robe. He understood then that she had untied the sash holding the robe closed. He suddenly worried that he would be as unable to perform with her as he had been with the girls back in the Toll.

“Relax.” Her breath was warm against his neck. Then her fingers were on his hair, untying the blue ribbon that held his scholar's braid in place, tugging gently until his hair lay unbound across his shoulders.

He closed his eyes, imagining Berylla's strong hands doing the same. Remembering how her hands had felt on his back, when they had lain together at the springs.

When Mai set her lips to the point of his shoulder, he only murmured a little, half lost in his thoughts. Even as she began to kiss her way up towards his ear, he was still thinking about Berylla.

But when she gently set her teeth against the delicate skin of his ear, he gasped.

He turned over, and Mai sat up a little to let him move. But any words he might have tried to utter died before he could formulate them.

She had indeed untied her robe, and the sheer fabric hung from her shoulders, open in the front. He could see her pert nipples, as if they were peeking out at him. The warmth in his belly turned into a roiling fire, and his mouth went dry.

She reached for him, gently trailing one finger down from his collarbone, to his chest. Then, she leaned down, her eyes never leaving his, and laid her mouth on his.

Almost by reflex, he kissed her.

He pulled back after only a moment, feeling shy once more.

She half smiled, and set her hand on his shoulder, only to push him gently until he lay on his back.

“Your hands,” she murmured, “Put them behind your head, Alphinaud.”

He did as she said, swallowing down a surge of nervousness. But as she began to stroke him and kiss his skin, he couldn't stay nervous. Hells, he could barely put two thoughts together.

By the time her hands were unfastening his belt and trousers, he was shaking all over, his skin flushed, panting as if he had been running for a mile.

She tugged gently, and for a second his mind went completely blank, as his cock sprang out of confinement and brushed against her hand.

He had pleasured himself before, of course, but this was...

His breath rasped in his throat and his whole body trembled. He couldn't hold back a soft moan, biting his lip as she skimmed her open palm across his tip. He stared down at her, hypnotized by the way her fingers curled around him, the sweep of her thumb across the head.

She stroked his length twice, and he shuddered. His eyes shut as he groaned at the intense pleasure of it. Two more strokes and he felt the beginning of his orgasm, and gulped for air, trying to stave it off, arching against her. His hands clenched behind his head, and with a final groan he came, messily, spurting across her hand and his own belly.

He lay there, shuddering, his face burning with embarrassment even as his nerves sang with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Mai stretched out beside him, resting her head on one hand. “No need to look so appalled,” she murmured. “It is only to be expected, at first.”

Alphinaud shook his head, unable to speak.

Mai moved away, only to return with a cool cloth. She cleaned up the mess he had made, and then took the cloth away again. By the time she returned, he had regained some small measure of his composure, not least because he had tugged his smalls up over his now quiescent member.

She eased herself down beside him once more, and drew him into her arms. He rested his head against her soft shoulder for a moment, his eyes shut as his breathing slowed.

“Now that I have taken the edge off,” she murmured into his hair, “shall we begin your lesson?”

His eyes popped open and he leaned back to look at her. Then he nodded. He _would_ have been terribly distracted by his body's clamoring. For now – though he suspected it would not be for long – he could concentrate.

Her eyes gleamed a little. “So serious.”

Then she lay back, resting on her hands, letting her robe fall open completely. Alphinaud's eyes wandered down her body, unable to resist the invitation.

She had a singularly lovely body, he had to admit. Delicate bones, and generous curves. Her dark hair was bound up still, and she had a graceful, long neck. She smiled at him as his eyes returned to her face, and said, “Allow your fingers to go where your eyes do.”

Alphinaud swallowed, but he sat up more, angling himself to lean over her. Hesitant, he set his left hand on her shoulder, then dragged his fingertips along her collarbone from shoulder to throat. The skin under his fingers was soft, just as the skin of her hands had been. He let his hand follow the curve of her body, down, until his palm gently cupped her breast. She whispered, “Yes, that's right.”

He kept his eyes on his hand as he stroked the silken skin, as he hefted the globe of her breast in his hand, fascinated for a moment by the way the flesh jiggled. His thumb rubbed across her nipple, and she made a tiny sound.

He looked at her face immediately, concerned. But she only smiled again. “A sensitive spot,” she murmured. “A good spot for fingers to caress.”

Oh. He returned his gaze to the breast in his hand and noticed that the tender skin had tightened. He stroked it again, watching raptly as it tightened further. Mai sighed with pleasure, and then she told him, “Taste of it.”

He had done this before, in a way – but Berylla's clothing had been between his lips and her flesh, then. Slowly he leaned down, his mouth open, and licked the hard little nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Ah,” Mai cooed. “You can do more. It is after all made for suckling.”

His eyes half shut as he set his mouth around the tender flesh. Her skin tasted faintly of salt, and the scent of it spoke to some deep instinct within him. She let her head fall back, her chest rising up, and he moved to her other breast, cupping it and tasting of it, eagerly now. The sounds she made sent tingles along his skin, and heat built in his belly once again.

He let his hand trail down her belly, and she shivered a little. “If you do not wish to tickle,” she murmured, her voice amused again, “a heavier touch than that.”

He left off sucking on her nipple, and nodded. Then he set a small kiss on her belly where he had first touched. She hummed a little, sounding pleased.

His hand hovered at her waist for a moment, and he hesitated.

Mai shifted her leg, opening to him, and he couldn't take his eyes off the neat little patch of black curls. His hand trembled as he touched them.

The hair felt wiry, much like his own – and yet so unlike. Slowly he followed the curve of her mound with the tips of his fingers, lower, then lower still. As his fingertips brushed her folds, Mai moaned very softly, and Alphinaud paused.

The flesh was hot to the touch, and damp. His brow furrowed a little as he considered. Then, he raised his eyes to her face, and very carefully pressed his index finger against the warmth.

The digit sank down into a wet heat, and Mai drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes were liquid and warm, and encouraged, Alphinaud slid his finger farther, dragging along the wetness he had found. The flesh was slick and soft, and the feeling of it made his cock twitch.

She bit her lip. “Farther in,” she suggested.

He looked down and angled his hand a little differently, slightly curling the finger that stroked her. His breath hitched as he felt it enter her, felt the warm wet walls that quivered at his touch. Slowly he pressed deeper, until his curled knuckles touched the wiry hairs of her mound. There he stopped, and looked back up at her face.

Her head had fallen back, and her mouth was very slightly open. Her breasts bounced a little, for she was breathing quickly now.

Alphinaud leaned forward to place a kiss on one of her breasts, and she moaned, louder than before.

“Two,” she whispered, “Two fingers...”

As if entranced, he obeyed. Her body trembled and the slickness of her only increased as he slipped two fingers inside of her. The pressure on his fingers, the warmth of her body...his cock was more than half erect again, and his breath was ragged. She moaned once more, and he slid his fingers out of her, bringing them up. The slick fluid that coated them carried a faint scent that he couldn't describe. Thinking of how she had encouraged him to taste of her breasts, he put his fingers in his mouth.

The taste was completely unlike anything he had ever encountered, and yet it was _wonderful_.

He wanted to taste more.

He maneuvered himself until he could lean down, his head between her legs. She moved for him, opening her legs farther, and laying back fully. A rush went through him as he realized she was truly enjoying what he was doing.

With his face mere inches away from her sex, he placed his fingers against her, delicately spreading her. The flesh was pink, and fragrant with her scent, that spoke to his basest instincts. He leaned in, and licked at her, a long, broad stroke of his tongue.

“Oh!” Mai cried, and her thighs quivered.

Alphinaud felt as if fire was flowing through his veins. His cock raged into full wakefulness even as he delved into her, sliding his tongue over the slick flesh, lapping at her. She panted and moaned, and every sound she made seemed to send another jolt of lust through him.

His hips ground against the cushion, but it wasn't enough. But before he could get frustrated, Mai gasped, “Enough...enough for now, Alphinaud.”

He left off using his mouth on her, and pushed himself up, until he was kneeling. Mai turned on her side for a moment, breathing heavily, and then beckoned him closer.

He crawled to her, feeling bold and lustful, and kissed her without shyness.

She returned the kiss, and then slid her foot along his leg. “These,” she murmured, tugging at his trousers with one hand, “need to go away.”

He smiled a little, and then wriggled out of his trousers and his smalls, kicking them off.

Bare, he came back to her, his mouth going to her breasts even as his cock pressed against her thigh. Her hands roamed over him, and she muttered words he couldn't understand. His own hands stroked her skin, fitfully.

His head was swimming with arousal when she pushed him onto his back once more.

She rose up, and climbed atop him, her robe tickling his legs.

He stroked her thighs, her belly, watching her move without quite understanding what she was about. But when she rocked her hips against him, and the wet heat of her slipped against the shaft of his cock, he hissed with anticipation.

She balanced herself, and reached down to guide him inside of her.

Alphinaud's eyes rolled back in his head as she sank down onto him. Her body was hot and tight and wet around his cock, and he felt as if he might pass out. His hips thrust up, fitfully, _helplessly_. She rested her palms on his chest and hummed to him, her mouth curving in a most wicked grin.

Her thighs gripped him and she began to bounce on his cock.

He groaned, utterly beyond rational thought, and bucked his hips up into her. Within a few strokes he had matched his rhythm to hers. They moved together, and Mai let out a tiny cry every time he sank fully inside of her.

She guided one of his hands down, until his thumb was touching her sex.

“Do you feel it,” she gasped, and he nodded. He did feel – a smooth, rounded shape, nestled at the top of that glorious soft heat. He rubbed his thumb across it.

“Ai!” Her head fell back and he felt her sex quiver and clamp down hard around him. He groaned.

He kept on rubbing, and very swiftly Mai began to shake. Her moans became louder and louder, her motions rougher. She ground her hips against him, harder, faster...

“Gods,” he groaned. Her sex was milking him, undulating around him with irresistibly delicious pressure. Somehow he kept his thumb in contact with her flesh even as his cock exploded within her. His vision went gray and he cried out even as she did.

He came back to reality with the courtesan draped across his chest. She had shifted, and his cock was no longer inside of her. He could feel her dripping wet sex on his belly.

He touched her shoulders, stroking her flower-petal skin. Through the haze of pleasure and exhaustion he felt a flicker of concern. Had he hurt her?

Her hair had come unpinned, and flowed across his chest like a black river. She lifted her head, slowly, strands of hair falling across her face, and smiled at him, still panting for breath.

“You,” she told him, the humor back in her voice, “are a fast learner.”

*

Mai sat up, and shook her raven hair, tucking it back behind her ears. She slid off of him, and sat with her knees tucked up and her arms resting atop them for a moment, just regarding Alphinaud with an enigmatic smile.

The euphoria was fading now, and a trickle of self-consciousness returned. He was completely bare, and without the urgency of lust to bolster him, he felt shy with her eyes on him. He started to lean up on his elbows.

Mai reached out and trailed one finger down the center of his chest. “Bide a moment,” she told him.

So he stayed still, and watched as she rose, letting her robe fall to the floor. She fetched the cloth again, and brought it over.

He shivered a little as she cleansed their mingled fluids and sweat from his skin. The gentle touch awakened echoes of pleasure in him, as if his nerves were strings being plucked softly.

“Always,” Mai murmured, “after such exertions, it is most polite to make one's lover comfortable.” She smiled at him. “To pamper them, if only for a moment. Sharing pleasure requires trust, and comfort repays that trust as much as the pleasure itself.”

She finished cleaning his manhood, and Alphinaud could feel his face burning yet again – though less so, than at the start of this. He sat up despite his blushes, and took the cloth from her. Her smile widened, and she guided him with one hand, showing him the necessary motions, to perform the same favor for her that she had just done for him. He focused on the task, memorizing, taking note of just how much pressure was required – not too much, not too little – and as he finished, she stroked his hair.

“So very studious.” She took back the cloth, and rose once more. Alphinaud arranged himself so that he was sitting mostly cross legged, and clasped his hands in his lap, as a way to stop from any foolish attempt to cover his nethers. Silly of him to feel so modest, at _this_ point, but...well.

When she returned, hands empty, she knelt beside him, and he said, “Will it always – ah – happen so fast?”

Her mouth quirked. “No,” she soothed. “In part, because this is new for you, it will be quick for a time. But there are some things I can teach you, things to help slow the blood and prolong your vigor.”

He started to lift his hand, to chew on a fingernail, and stopped himself. The agreement he had made with Berylla...had not yet extended to this level of intimacy. But it might...

“Forgive me if this seems strange, but, perhaps if I elaborate on a few points...” As he explained to Mai just what path he hoped to tread with Berylla, he found himself relaxing. Somehow, when she did _not_ laugh at him nor deride his notions, he finally began to think that he might be able to accomplish his mad scheme.

“An unusual plan,” she said at last, “yet, not impossible. A most gentle way to win a heart.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again. “Let me, then, instruct you first in this...”

*

He returned, after a day and a night of rest, for his second lesson. No nervousness plagued him, this time – if anything, he had to make some small effort to contain his eagerness. He _knew_ , now, what delights awaited him...and he was quite ready to learn more.

The first thing he noticed as Mai welcomed him was the presence of quite a few – accessories. He was perfectly capable of understanding what the carved wooden phallus was for (though the sight of it made his ears burn terrifically), but some of the other things...

Well. He was here to learn. And learn he would.

But first...he smiled and reached for Mai, who was quite pleased to help him warm up.

*

He wasn't sure what time it was. His head felt light and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. His entire body tingled and trembled.

But beneath him, Mai was a disheveled mess, strands of hair across her face, sweating as much as he was, her lips swollen. She was gasping and moaning, words in Hingan now, but he didn't need to understand what she said – it was clear that she was approaching another orgasm, and that was his focus now. One more, one more and he would allow himself to – ah, _there_ , her eyes fluttered and closed, her mouth opened –

She cried out – a soft sound, a sound wrung from an exhausted and overstimulated body at the limit of endurance. Alphinaud's sight left him as he let go. He could hear himself groaning, but it seemed far away, and the pleasure of his climax seemed like it might never end.

But at last, he collapsed, limbs still tangled with the woman beneath him, his hips twitching just enough to remove himself from her. Mai was weeping, very softly.

Slowly Alphinaud levered himself up again, onto his knees, and leaned on one arm. He slipped his hand behind her head and pressed his lips to her forehead. Then he let her go and rested his palm on her chest bone. Exhausted as he was, his aether was still sufficient for this.

The cool blue-white glow of healing sprang up around his fingers, and blossomed outward as he modified his spell to seep into her body, soothing overtaxed muscles and slightly numbing her skin.

He winced and turned the spell on his own body, first numbing out his manhood – the abused flesh simply did not bear thinking about right now. It was only to be expected, after all that he had asked of his body tonight.

He could do nothing for exhaustion and dehydration for either of them, but at least they need not be in pain.

He managed to roll off of her then, and simply lay on his back, eyes half shut, chest heaving. His muscles twitched now and then, paroxysms of weariness as if he had been running for hours. Then again – in a sense, he supposed he had been.

Mai mumbled something, still in her native tongue, and rolled onto her side, facing away from Alphinaud. He listened, but didn't look at her. Even through the fog of his body's weariness, his mind sorted carefully through the things he had learned this night.

He had thought the annual “special class” at the Studium had been embarrassingly thorough, but now he truly understood that it had covered the bare basics for healthy and safe sexual relations, and had not discussed any aspect of the pleasures of those relations. Pleasures which had been hinted at in the few salacious books he had found - with no practical advice on technique.

There had been nothing approaching the array of pleasures and methods that Mai had revealed to him. The things she had taught him to do – the things she had _done_ to him. It would take him some weeks to fully assimilate all the knowledge she had imparted to him. However, he also knew that he had time in plenty – and he was _certain_ he had the patience to wait for Berylla to be ready to accept him as a lover.

He turned his head as Mai moved – watched, as she got to her feet and staggered over to one of the _tansu_ , to open a small drawer. From the drawer, she plucked a small silver chime, which she shook. Even as she was replacing the chime in its drawer, the back wall of the room shifted, and a woman in a very plain black kimono peeked in through a narrow opening. Mai spoke in Hingan, and the other woman nodded and vanished, sliding the shoji back into place.

She turned back toward him, leaning against the tansu a little, and managed a smile. “A bath,” she told him.

“Ah,” he replied. Then managed to sit up. “A good idea.”

“I must confess,” her voice was a little raspy, “I did not expect an _ijin_ to possess such stamina.”

Alphinaud's ears went warm, but he smiled at the compliment.

He was certain that there was much more to learn.

The night was not yet over, after all.


End file.
